


Rivers and Roads

by Ashers11



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Other: See Story Notes, Spoiler tags in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashers11/pseuds/Ashers11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a storm outside and Derek takes shelter in Stiles' room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivers and Roads

“I had a dream last night.”

 

The statement was short and quiet, but it felt important. Necessary. Derek wasn’t entirely sure why however.

 

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” Stiles looked up from where he was sitting at his desk, looking over at Derek perched on the windowsill. It was raining outside, the water streaming relentlessly against the glass.

 

“I don’t remember.”

 

Stiles gave a short laugh before returning to stare at his laptop. “Well, when you remember, let me know.”

 

-)-(-

 

Stiles room used to be blue. It used to have a large sticker of some sort on his wall. He must have painted it during the summer. The walls are a vague sort of creamy colour that feels warm and homey. Derek wonders why he did it. Derek wonders how Stiles knew that this was the colour of his old bedroom.

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Hmm?” Stiles looks up from where he’s once again sitting at his desk.

 

“Why did you paint your room?”

 

“Huh?” Stiles looks around before shrugging. “I read somewhere that blue can actually stimulate the brain, keep it awake. I was having trouble sleeping after – uh, during the summer, I got my dad to buy some paint and went crazy.”

 

Derek notices the slip. Knows that there’s something Stiles was covering, but he didn’t feel comfortable enough to bring it up. “It looks good,” he said instead, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. It’s cold. It’s still raining.

 

“Thanks.” There’s a small smile before Stiles turns back to his laptop

 

-)-(-

 

The next time Derek appears in Stiles room, he sits on the bed tentatively. Stiles doesn’t tell him to get off, so he relaxes a bit.

 

Stiles is once again seated at his desk, keys tapping an uneven rhythm. “What are you working on?” Derek asks, curious.

 

“That thing you asked me about, remember?” Stiles waves a hand around the room vaguely. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to slack off.”

 

“Right.” Derek doesn’t remember asking Stiles anything, but he must have. Stiles wouldn’t be working otherwise. He shrugs and looks out the window. As he does, thunder rumbles in the distance.

 

-)-(-

 

“Did you want something to eat?” Stiles asks suddenly, another night. He spins his chair around and looks at Derek, who’s once again seated on his bed.

 

Derek hesitates, before nodding. “Sure.”

 

“Cool, I brought up a couple of the muffins I made earlier.” Stiles bends down, still seated on the chair, and grabs a container from besides the desk. “They’re a little undercooked, so they have to be eaten before they go mouldy, especially in this weather.” He pries off the lid and holds it out. “They’re almond and vanilla.”

 

Derek takes one and peels back the white paper wrapped around the muffin base. Almond and vanilla is his favourite.

 

-)-(-

 

Derek brushes his fingers against the cover of Stiles bed. It’s soft. The type of soft that you only get through years of use, hundreds of washes and thousands of nights curled up in it. It smells strange though.

 

“When did you last wash your sheets?” he asks.

 

Stiles shrugs, finger tapping against the mouse. “A while? Why?”

 

“It smells… odd.” Musty. Like it hasn’t been used in years. He looks up and Stiles is watching him.

 

“I’ll wash it once the rain clears up. Just ignore it until then.”

 

Derek nods, but continues to stroke the fabric. It’s been raining for so long now, he isn’t sure Stiles is going to have that chance any time soon.

 

-)-(-

 

Lightning flashes outside. Derek watches it and feels strangely lightheaded.

 

“This rain just isn’t leaving, is it?”

 

Stiles glances at the window. “Apparently not.” He looked at Derek. “Did you want to stay tonight? Avoid the rain? You can crash on my bed if you want.”

 

Derek doesn’t know how to answer.  On one hand, he really should go. This wasn’t his home. On the other hand, he wanted to avoid the rain.

 

“I…”

 

Stiles turns around fully and leans forwards. “Derek, stay. It’s pouring outside.” Derek glances at the window. “Really, I don’t mind.”

 

“But-” A weight on his shoulder stops him. He turns back. Stiles hand on his shoulder is weirdly heavy.  Solid.

 

“Derek, it’s all right.”

 

“…Okay.”

 

-)-(-

 

He’s lying on Stiles bed staring up at the ceiling. The room is dark except for the frequent flashes of lightning outside. The power went out some hours before; right after a large crash of thunder shook the house to its foundations. The rain still hasn’t gone. If anything it was getting worse.

 

He turns his head to the left. Stiles is by the window, holding the curtain open. He looks tired, shoulders slumped and dark shadows under his eyes. He’s been up late every night that Derek has been here.

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Hmm?” The boy turns to look at him.

 

“You should sleep.”

 

“Can’t.”

 

“I can go-”

 

“No, I -” Stiles shakes his head. After a moment, he lets the curtain fall shut and walks over to the bed and sits down.

 

Derek sits up, frowning. “Stiles, what’s wrong?”

 

Stiles looks at him. The room is dark, except for the flashes of light, but Derek feels the boys gaze sharp on his face. “Derek. You can’t stay here anymore.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve tried. You’ve tried. It’s won’t keep working.” A particularly loud crash of thunder shakes the house again. Derek heart stutters in his chest. Stiles glances at the window, jaw clenching, before looking back at him. “You need to leave.”

 

“I don’t understand. Why-” Another crash shakes the house, and Derek feels his heart lurch in his chest. Something is wrong.

 

Stiles smiles weakly. “You’re strong Derek. You’ll be okay.” He lifts a hand and grips Derek’s shoulder. “Remember, it’s just a storm, and storms pass. And, help is coming.”

  
“Stiles, no-” He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave. The storm would tear him apart. “Don’t make me go.”

 

“I wish I didn’t have to. Just, survive, Derek. Survive.” He lets go of Derek’s shoulder, hand sliding off slowly.

 

Derek shivers as another crash echoes outside. “Stiles, no-!”

 

“How many fingers do I have Derek?”

 

“No!”

 

-)-(-

 

Derek jerks awake, body shuddering as another shock of electricity burst through his body. His heart pounds an uneven rhythm against his chest, pressing harsh against his ribs. He gasps, trying to drag air into his lungs, sweat and ozone filling his nose.

 

“Where’d you go Derek?” Fingers ran through his hair, nails sharp. “You didn’t think you could stay away from me forever, could you?” The fingers grip his hair tightly, yanking his head up. Glinting eyes bore into his, glowing green.

 

“No… no, please…”

 

“Hmm, I don’t think that that was an answer.” The fingers let go and his head fell forwards. “Maybe another round will get the answer out of you. I’ve found out all of your other secrets, this one shouldn’t be too hard.”

 

“No, please, please, Kate, no-” Derek gasps, desperate. He couldn’t, he couldn’t endure this and tell her about his escape. It was all he had. Even if it was a lie, a made up truth, it was his. “Please.”

 

“Well, since you begged so beautifully.”

 

A soft click sounds. Derek screams.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Non-Explicit references to torture written towards the end, involving Kate Argent and Derek.


End file.
